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by Fandoms_ruined_me123



Series: Whumptober 2020 [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Parent Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Has Issues, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne-centric, Dick Grayson is Batman, Good Older Sibling Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_ruined_me123/pseuds/Fandoms_ruined_me123
Summary: “I’ll deal with him later,”Damian knew that it would be coming eventually. Throughout his stay with Grayson, he seemed to have never been punished. But Damian knew he had crossed a line, had been blatantly insubordinate on patrol. That seemed to be what it took for a punishment. He knew what those words meant. He still had the scars from being 'dealt with'. He was only surprised it had taken Grayson this long. He knew what he had to do. He knew he had to stand there and take his punishment, but he couldn't. So he ran.Whumptober prompt 18: Panic attack
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Damian Wayne
Series: Whumptober 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950364
Comments: 9
Kudos: 265





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**Author's Note:**

> I think this is my first fic about Damian, exciting! I was experimenting with a little bit of a different writing style because 1.) I thought it would be fun, and 2.) It seemed a bit more like Damian. Well, I did have fun but I also felt like my friend who writes like J.R.R Tolkien. That's not a bad thing, it was just a little different. Anyways there is this huge debate about Talia as a character and how she's been written and I liked the old Talia much better but the newer Talia was necessary for this fic. It's ok as long as it's benefitting me(/j).   
> This fic does deal with an abuse victim attempting to 'normalize' or excuse abuse and I wanted to give a disclaimer. It is never ok for someone to hit you. It is not your fault and you did not cause them to do that. The blame is on them, not on you. You are an amazing person who deserves all the love in the world and if there is someone in your life who cannot see that then they are missing what is right in front of them. <3
> 
> And as always thank you to my beta Elise who has recently become my co-parent as we attempt to raise Garold, the ghost rat who lives in my basement walls

There are some things in life that just appear to be normal. They change from person to person and no one has the same concept of normal. People don’t even realize what they think of as normal until it changes, and Damian was familiar with that concept all too well. He knew what to expect from people. His mother wanted him to follow orders. She wanted him to stay silent when talking to anyone of authority but allowed him to speak back to any of those she deemed as lesser than him. His trainers wanted him to be better. They wanted him to work harder, be merciless . But no matter how hard he tried he was never good enough for them. He even knew what his grandfather wanted. His grandfather wanted him to be perfect. He wanted a perfect heir, but the older Damian got the more he realized that his grandfather wasn’t interested in him. So instead he trained harder and became better. He pushed himself to the extreme every time just so that he could be better, and that was normal. He became used to training with broken ribs or fingers without saying a word. He became used to the orders and he became even more familiar with what happens if you break them. Damian knew the punishments, they were normal. He lived day after day, year after year with the same rules and expectations. He never once thought anything else of it. He knew it was normal.

However, everything changed when his mother sent him away. She said it would be good for him to live with his father. He knew she had ulterior motives but he didn’t bother to ask because she wouldn’t tell him anyway, that was normal. What wasn’t normal was what had come next. Damian tried to follow the rules, he really did. But every time he did someone would get mad at him for it. They yelled at him for doing what he had always done before, and he was confused. He knew he wanted to be Robin so he did what he knew best: eliminate the competition. He failed and everyone got more upset with him. They told him everything he had ever learned was wrong and got frustrated with him when he didn’t understand. He could tell they were frustrated with him, but he still remained confused. The rules he had tried too hard to learn and grown up with had changed. The things he would revive a nod of approval from now only caused them to yell. It didn’t make sense, none of it was normal. 

However, as time went on things seemed to almost become easier. His father was gone and his brother was put in charge of his care. He learned how to aim for the shoulder instead of the throat, the knee instead of the stomach. It was a long and grueling process but he had gotten there eventually. It still seemed useless to him. After all, it is better to die than to face defeat, wouldn’t he be doing them a favor? Damian never asked that to Grayson, but he had always wondered. They didn’t seem to have the same idea. He had been told time and time again to leave the fight immediately if he were to become injured but he knew he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. No matter how long he had stayed there he still didn’t trust them. He couldn’t risk lowering his guard to let them know he was hurt. His mother had taught him better than that. But the most confusing part of it all were the punishments. They simply made no sense to him. He knew what discipline was, and that was not it. He knew the pain that came along with mistakes and he learned quickly to not make them. Grayson had never some much as raised a hand in his direction but he knew it was coming, it always came. 

There had been an incident on patrol. In the midst of a fight, a stray bullet had caught him in the arm. It was a larger group of attackers than usual but nothing too different so there was no excuse for his injury. But he knew there were no excuses for failure, to begin with so it didn’t phase him much. It had done no more than rip through the fabric of his sleeve and through a small patch of skin on his arm. By the time that Grayson had noticed the blood had already begun to pour down his arm freely. His teeth ground together as he blocked out the pain, instead focusing his attention on not messing up further. He was ordered to fall back, to wait out the fight but he didn’t. There were too many men for Grayson to take on alone and he was not planning on backing down. Death before failure, and he was not going to fail. 

Grayson was furious. He dragged him back to the cave immediately as he lectured about following orders. Damian didn’t have to listen to his words to tell how angry he was but it only served to confuse him further. He had disobeyed a direct order but to do so would be a failure. Was he supposed to draw back before engaging again? They had never talked about failure as it was never an option, it still wasn’t an option but it happened nonetheless. He didn’t know what the punishment for failure was but he knew it wouldn’t be good. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest but still, he put the brave facade on his face. He had already messed up once that night and to show fear would only get him in more trouble than he already was. The wound in his shoulder stung with every movement of the car but he pushed it away. Grayson was silent, his hands clenched tight on the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He stared ahead at the road in front of him as if he was attempting to figure out what to do next, what to do with Damian next. He knew the second that the others had been listening to the coms when he stepped out of the car. They all stood there and looked at him with disdain. He could almost hear them mocking his failure. Still, they stayed silent as they looked to Grayson expectantly. He knew they were expecting his punishment. He was so sure that their judgment couldn’t have been based on his insubordination but rather the fact that he had gotten himself injured. They had all gotten themself injured on patrol but it was never something to be reprimanded for. They got injured from major fights, not some low-level thug he should have been able to fight off. Besides, they had already proved their place. They had shown that they were a valuable asset to be kept around and most of them couldn’t even talk to him without questioning his intentions, verbal or nonverbal. 

By then the blood had crusted around the rip in his sleeve although it hurt more than he would have ever admitted. He felt their eyes on his back as he passed across the room. His eyes focused on the wall in front of him to stop him from looking back at them. He already knew they were disappointed in him and he didn’t need to reaffirm the thought any further. It wasn’t until he had reached the changing rooms that he finally let his shoulder drop. He slowly peeled off the suit, his eyes shut tight as his teeth ground together once more as he slipped his injured arm out of the sleeve. The blood began to pour down it once more but he didn’t pay it a second thought. Instead, he focused on changing into the mundane clothes he had left behind. All of them were long, from the sleeves to the pants. He had already shown them how weak he was, he didn’t need to prove that any further by the other evidence of his failure scrawled across his skin in raised lines and deep divots in his skin. He took an extra second more to bandage the wound. He had hidden the necessary materials to patch himself up in his room and down there as well so he wouldn’t have to go to anyone else about it. The bullet hadn’t grazed deep enough to need stitches but he was prepared to do so if need be. He was just about to step back out into the other room when he heard it.

“I’ll deal with him later,” Damian froze. His hand seemed to be stuck to the doorway as he gripped it tightly, Dick’s words still echoed in his ears. He knew what it meant to be ‘dealt with’. He had only ever heard it from his mother on select occasions. He had learned his lessons quick enough and he still had the scars to show for it. Those were the scars that seemed to be unfazed by the years and still appeared as fresh as ever. Those were the scars that that injuries led him bedridden with a fever high enough until his mother almost concerned placing him into the pit. The wound had become infected, he learned two lessons then. He learned to never refuse a kill and he learned how to patch himself afterwards. Damian knew he should have stayed where he was and face whatever punishment Grayson determined was fit. He knew to run was a coward's move but his feet moved faster than his mind could keep up. 

He stuck close to the wall as he attempted to make his way to the stairs unseen. Each footstep seemed to be much louder than it should have been. The world around him seemed brighter, more vivid. His eyes focused on everything that he had let slide by before as if he was attempting to memorize each individual item. Then they saw him. Their scorching eyes burned deep into his chest as they eyed him suspiciously. They looked between Grayson and him expectantly and there was a beat of silence, each person not wanting to break the fragile silence first. Eventually, Grayson stepped forward, his movements deliberate and slow as he began to cross the gap between them. Damian turned and ran.

The stairs seemed to pass under him before he could realize what he was going. Had it not been for the overwhelming feeling of the ground under his feet he may have not even known he was walking. People yelled after him but by the time they had started he had slammed the door behind him. His eyes darted around the room as he entered into the manor. His clothes seemed heavier than before. He felt the way his shirt pushed down on his chest and tightened around his arms. The collar felt like it had snaked around his neck and begun to squeeze the life out of him. His heart pulsed in his chest as it pounded down to his fingertips. Every fiber in his being screamed for him to run but it wasn't until Pennyworth entered the room that he actually did. The older man's face was a mask of concern but Damian knew better, he knew that he had been sent to either retrieve or restrain him. He waited for a moment as Pennyworth walked slowly closer to him before he ran. He slipped underneath his arm and ran into the main hallway, his feet slid slightly over the well kept floor. Again he found himself on the stairs. His lungs ached and burned as his breath picked up speed. Shallow breaths that only caused him to breathe harder. 

The door to his room slammed behind him and he almost screamed at the sound. It was loud, everything was too loud. The rain that had begun to fall tapped at the window. He focused on the sound as everything around him continued to grow louder. His hands shook violently, he didn’t know when the shaking started but by the time he realized he was, he couldn’t stop it. His nails dug deep into the palms of his hands. The room was dark, he needed to hide. Grayson was coming for him and he had to hide. The second he saw the closet he moved, footsteps began to pound up the stairs towards him as he dropped to his knees. His back pressed up against the wall. The cold, hard wall pressed against his side. He knew corners were traps but they were safe. Grayson could only come from one angle and he would see him coming. Still, everything was too loud. His hands clamped down over his ears tightly. He couldn’t move his hands, just the sound of his hands moving was too much. Everything was just too much. He felt each footstep as it shook the ground. The footsteps moved closer and closer, then they stopped. 

Damian froze, eyes wide as he looked up at Grayson in front of him. His face displayed a firm look of frustration before it shifted. It looked strange, he figured it must have been a disappointment. He had failed. His mind replayed the events that had occurred years before, the last time he was dealt with. He disobeyed a direct order. His eyes had latched onto the mans as he pleaded for his life. He spoke of his children, of his wife. As he spoke of his children, Damian had grown confused. The man pleaded to see them again, his voice quivered as he spoke of his love for them. Damian was unsure of what love was exactly. His mother had never used the word nor had she ever spoken of him in any way like the man in front of him had. He did not intend to disobey the order but his head was so full of confusion he hadn’t been able to process it. Then the man was dead. His blood had covered Damian as it pooled at his feet. His mother had finished the job, it was only a training exercise but he still failed. He knew the man deserved it, she had only taken pity on him. It was better to die than to live with the knowledge that you pleaded for your life like a dog. 

When Grayson bent down he was thrown out of his thoughts. Thrown out of the threat from the past and into the threat of the present. His back pressed up against the cold wall as if he had hoped to move through it. Hands remained clamped shut over his ears as tears pricked at his waterline. He shut his eyes tight firmly, he couldn’t cry. His mother had taught him much better than that. He knew that to cry was weakness, weakness was to be punished. He didn’t want to add to the reasons for the punishment he deserved. His lungs felt as if they were going to cave in. He couldn’t breathe. His mouth hung open as it took in air that seemed to stop before it got to his lungs. He had been taught how to calm himself but at that moment all training seemed lost as he curled in on himself. His shaking rose to a crescendo before he opened his eyes and froze completely. Grayson knelt down beside him at eye level. He seemed to be speaking but his voice was muffled by Damian’s hands. He stared at the older man for a heartbeat before he spoke. 

“What is to be my punishment?” He whispered out. His voice shook as he continued to attempt to breathe. Grayson looked at him quizzically for a moment. Eyebrows furrowed as he looked at him with what appeared to be concern but Damian knew he must have been confused. No one is concerned for the person they are to punish. 

“Is that what this is about?” Now it was Damian’s turn to be confused. He bit back a retort, not willing to risk angering him further. He nodded sharply as his eyes trailed to a spot on the wall behind him to avoid looking into his eyes. Grayson moved forward slightly and Damian felt his head snap to the side. Hands came off from his ears and in front of his face. Instincts took over as he moved out of the way, awaiting the blow that was about to come. It never came. He looked back to Grayson hesitantly and was confused at what he saw. The look on his face seemed like that of a hurt animal, as if Damian’s reaction had hurt him. 

“Damian,” He began slowly as he visibly thought each word over before he spoke. “You know I’m not going to hurt you right?”

“But I disobeyed a direct order and therefore you needed to deal with me?” Confusion was clear in his voice as he watched Grayson’s eyes widened. He ran a hand through his hair slowly, his movements slow as if to not alarm him. 

“Yeah, I’d talk to you. I’d explain why I reacted like that and what the rule is there for. I’d never hurt you for that,”

“Then what would you for?” Damian asked. He figured it would be best to ask then so he could avoid it at all costs. 

“Nothing! That’s- I wouldn’t hurt you for anything! Much less for discipline. That’s not discipline, that's abuse and using fear tactics to manipulate and control children,” He froze before he looked at Damian with an intense gaze that made him want to turn away from. “Damian, did Talia hit you?”

“She would use my mistakes to train me better, if that is what you are saying,” He said slowly, unsure of the response he was supposed to give. His shaking subsided slowly as the threat diminished. 

“I want you to know that no one here is going to hurt you. Not me, not Alfred, not anyone,”

“Then what do you use for punishments?”

“It depends on what they did and who did it. Sometimes it’s things like extra chores or yard work. If it was on patrol maybe they’d get taken off patrol for a little while. Never food restrictions, being locked in your room, having the door to your room taken off, or anything like that. And never injuries,” Damian paused as Grayson spoke. Visibly confused as the information sunk in but he didn’t ask any more questions. 

“Now let’s get back down to the cave. I want to take a look at the bullet wound,” He said as he pushed himself to his feet.

“That will be unnecessary,” Damian stated as he stood hesitantly as he stepped out of the closet. “I have already cleaned and dressed it. It only grazed me and will heal soon,”

“I know, and I’m sure you did a great job taking care of it. But me and Alfred always try to look it over for everyone. Too many times people tried to hide injuries only to get them infected or something. In this family, we tend to underestimate severe injuries,” He froze as Grayson continued to walk to the door, unaware that he was not following behind. ‘In this family’, his words repeated over and over in Damian’s head as he looked down to the floor, a small smile on his face. His mother had always cared for him but they were not a family, now he had one. Maybe it wasn’t easy or normal but he figured that would change soon enough. After all, what’s normal might not always mean good.


End file.
